[Disclaimer] Everything Twilight belongs to Mrs. Stephenie Meyer.

*Thanks to harrytwifan for her fabulous beta work.*

Claiming Souls

Rochester, New York, 1939

He's almost dead. I can sense it, because his annoying thoughts have finally stopped. I swallow another mouthful of blood, sighing in relief as it pours down my burning throat. This is what I like most; those few moments of silence towards the end of each meal. It gives me some feeling of peace. I suck roughly on his wrist, trying to drain the lifeless man underneath me completely. Way too soon, everything is over. I pull back and wipe my mouth on the back of my hand before I lick off the rest of blood.

They say bad people taste better, but to me all humans taste the same. I look down at tonight's victim and my eyes instantly move to his mouth. There is still a small drop of dried semen on his chin. I lean down and run my tongue over it. My mind replays the scene I secretly witnessed half an hour ago. How he had my mate's beautiful thick cock stuffed inside his worthless mouth. The filthy thoughts he had as he circled his tongue over Carlisle's balls to increase his pleasure. My own dick stirs at the memory, and my hand glides down inside my pants and pulls them down to give me better access. The fabric of my underwear is already moist with slick precum.

As I stroke myself, I try to focus on the thoughts Carlisle was having while the lifeless nobody next to me sucked him off. He's not a very vocal person, my mate, but his mind is something else. I imagine myself in front of him on my knees, his rod stuffed inside my cold mouth as deep as possible. I shudder when I imagine him thinking my name as his hot seed fills my mouth when he climaxes. With a groan, I release all over my hand. After a moment of recovery time, I wipe it on the grass I'm sitting on.

I know that I need to get rid of the corpse as soon as possible. So, I stand up and throw him into one of the huge containers behind the house before I set fire to the damn thing.

As I make my way back to my mate's house, I don't even bother looking back once. The man is dead. He's served his purpose and now he doesn't matter anymore.

There is a hint of jealousy in my dead heart as I think of the look upon Carlisle's face as the dead fucker started unbuttoning his fly and gave his cock the first tentative stroke.

It's not that I don't understand that my mate has needs. They may not be as primal as mine, but I know they're there. Still, I don't like that he's allowing other men to touch his dick with their unworthy hands and mouths. I've never liked anyone touching my property, not even when I was still human.

Within a few minutes, I'm at the back of Carlisle's house, and climb up the fire escape to sneak inside through the open window. He always sleeps with the window open. Another thing I love about my precious mate.

I climb inside and notice the calm beating of his heart. It's beautiful––my favorite sound on earth. There is some rattling in his breathing. Maybe he's about to develop a cold. I close the window, taking another blanket from a chair in the corner and placing it carefully over him.

For a moment, I feel tempted to touch him. I want to run my fingers over the softness of his blond hair. In the sunlight, it looks like liquid gold and honey. Everything about him is exquisite. My fingers circle about an inch over his bobbing Adam's apple.

I want to kiss him there. Kiss him hard and mark him irrevocably as mine, because that's what he is.

Before Carlisle, nothing ever made sense to me. I had been changed into a vampire over two decades ago by an immortal named Tanya. She had been working in the hospital where my family and I were brought after we were diagnosed with Spanish Influenza. I remember that I was scared to die. I was barely eighteen and my life had barely started.

The priest came to take my confession but I was already too weak to speak. There was no way I would have revealed my secret fantasies to him. Desiring a man as one is supposed to desire a woman is a great sin. Maybe that's why I was so afraid to die. I didn't want to go to hell.

On the last night of my human life, I somehow managed to make it up to the roof of the hospital. I wanted to watch the stars while I died. That was my last wish.

Tanya found me. I remember how she apologized to me before she bit me. The pain that followed was excruciating. I begged her to kill me, to end my torture, but she just sat by my side and held my hand in her cold one.

When I woke up, she explained everything to me. What she was. What I had become. She never spoke the words out loud about what she wished for me to become for her, but I saw them in her head the moment I opened my crimson eyes to this new existence.

We were damned. I'd been turned into a soulless monster who fed upon animals like a parasite. For a few years, I stayed with Tanya and the rest of her family. Then I decided it was time to leave. I couldn't be what Tanya had hoped for me to be, so I left and took the train to Rochester.

It was an icy March night when I arrived, and made my way through the dark streets. No one was out that late at night. I was puzzled when I heard several male voices in my head. It was obvious they were drunk. The profanities they were thinking made me sick to my stomach. For a moment, I hesitated. Feeding on humans would make me even worse than I already was. It would make me a murderer.

Then I heard the woman yell, her thoughts a panicked chaos when she realized what the man she loved was about to do to her.

I killed him first. I remember how his blood was thick and warm upon my tongue. There was no comparison to the blood of the elks and bears I had been feeding on. For the first time, my torturing thirst was actually satiated for a while.

A pleasant numbness filled me, and from that day on, feeding on humans became my nightly routine. I told myself that I wasn't doing anything wrong. I only killed the scum of society; rapists and murderers. The world was a better place without those monsters.

Yes, the men I killed were nothing but disgusting monsters. But so was I.

The first time I heard Carlisle's thoughts, he was on his way home during the early hours of morning. He smelled of dried blood and soap, a weird combination that I've grown to love over time.

His thoughts are unlike those of other humans. He always puts other before himself. Almost every waken hour he spends in the hospital where he works as a doctor. My mate saves lives. You have to love him for that.

A low moan leaves his lips as he shifts around on the bed, turning over to lie on his stomach. The blanket slides down, and I have to swallow back the venom in my mouth as the crack of his ass is revealed to my eyes.

What would it feel like to run my tongue down there? I know my mate fantasizes about having his ass played with. His thoughts excite me. I'd like to prep his tight hole with oil until he's ready to take my cock. I'd take him slow, easing my way into his hot body. I want to make him come hard while I'm deep inside of him.

No one has ever taken him there, though. He never dares to vocalize that wish to the men he brings home with him. It is difficult for him to find partners. His preferences for other men need to be kept hidden. Sodomy is a crime. Carlisle could end up behind bars should anyone find out about his secret.

With me it is safe. I love him. I love the beauty of his angelic face and the chiseled muscles of his broad chest. I want to fist my fingers into the coarse golden hair there. But most of all, I love his precious soul. Carlisle's soul is the most beautiful thing on earth and it belongs to me alone.

With a sigh, I sit down in front of the bed and reach out my hand. During the first nights I came here, the urge to touch him was overwhelming.

I know it's impossible, though. My fingers would break his skull if I held him a bit too tight. My instincts would take over, and I would drain him dry within the blink of an eye if my lips ever touched the skin right over his pulsing jugular.

Still, Carlisle is mine. I may not have a soul anymore but his is the most beautiful that God could have created. I need to protect it.

My mate is lonely. He longs for a companion and that hurts me. What if he actually meets someone he cares for? I can't let that happen. Yet, I allow for him to bring men here. I sit outside the window and watch them. Listen to Carlisle's grunts as he thrusts his hard dick inside the mouth of strangers he finds in dark bars.

When it's his turn to pleasure his guest, it's even worse for me. I want it to be my cock he worships. I long for the feeling of his soft tongue running over the sensitive head, down to the base and up again. His eyes would stay on my face the entire time, until my cock would pulse inside his mouth and he'd swallow everything I'd give him.

I'm hard again and reach down to give my testicles a light tug. There is no way I can risk touching myself while Carlisle is in the same room. I'm going to wait until he goes to the hospital in the morning. Then, I'll sit back on his bed, still warm from his body, and enjoy myself a bit. It will be most satisfying.

Carlisle turns over to the side and opens his eyes. He sees me sitting in front of his bed, but he doesn't know I'm really there. I smile and whisper softly.

"Go back to sleep, love. It's too early to get up."

He sighs and rubs his eyes. When he looks at me again, there is sadness in the bright blue of his iris.

I wish you were real, he thinks. You are so handsome, my beautiful boy.

I smile again and stand up from the floor. When I turn around, his mind wanders to my backside. He pictures how my ass would feel like if he cupped it roughly in his hands.

The thought makes me chuckle; like he could ever be rough with me.

With my left hand, I open the window and swing one leg over the ledge.

Behind me, Carlisle has fallen down on his knees. He's praying. He always prays after he's seen me. A deep cough escapes his throat, and after a moment he spits out a mixture of salvia and blood.

Dear Lord, have mercy on me, he pleads. I'm too young to die.

Horrified, I turn around and sit back on the ledge. He thinks that he's dying? Why?

Carlisle finishes his prayer, ending it like always by asking God to forgive him for his sins. My mate has been raised to believe in the existence of Good and Evil, yet he knows nothing of either one of them. He thinks me some sort of angel, and so far I'm closer to being a devil. My innocent face is just a part of the façade. Behind that pretty mask is a feral monster.

It is my love for Carlisle that somehow manages to make me feel human. It gives me hope. There is no way I can risk losing that––ever. That's why I need to kill the men he brings here with him.

Aren't they even worse monsters than myself? Isn't it just horrible that they want to take away what's mine? They can't hide their selfish thoughts from me. All of them want my Carlisle. I can't blame them for that. He's a very attractive man, and a generous lover on top of that. Still, he's mine and I want it to stay that way.

Carlisle sighs and walks towards the desk to the left of the window. I read the letter he holds up, through his eyes. The words are terrifying. My insides clench painfully as he continues reading.

One of the other doctors in the hospital has written it. He informs Carlisle that the test result of his x-rays have come back positive. When doctors say something is positive it always means the exact opposite, and this letter is no exception.

Tuberculosis – My mate must have caught the deadly disease during his work at the hospital.

For a moment, anger spreads through me. He's a doctor! Shouldn't he know better how to protect himself from getting sick? Then I realize that it is just what he does. He takes care of people, even those who have awful diseases that might endanger his own health.

I jump up again, and force myself to move at a slow, human-like pace as I walk towards Carlisle. He's crying now, sobs shaking his shoulders. I know how it's like to be afraid to die. At least he won't be damned. Heaven wouldn't dare to close its gates in front of him. My beautiful, good mate…

Hesitantly, I raise my hand, and as lightly as possible my fingers move over his head. His hair is so soft, softer even than I've imagined it to feel like. I stroke over it with my entire palm and he shifts in his chair.

"Tell me your name, angel," he mumbles, wiping the tears from his face. He looks so young now, so vulnerable. I drink him in like the bouquet of an expensive wine. His blood smells sweet to me. I can almost taste it in my mouth.

"Tell me your name," he asks a second time, leaning back against the chair. "Please."

"Edward," I breathe. "My name is Edward Masen."

I love the way his mind forms my name like a gentle caress before he speaks it out loud. "Edward."

His eyes move from my face to the small stripe of exposed skin where I left the first two buttons of my shirt undone.

"I know you're not real. You can't be real."

"Why?" I ask him, leaning back against the desk. I shove a few books aside and sit down on the edge. "Maybe I'm as real as you are."

"I wished you were real, but at the same time I don't want you to be."

Carlisle's thoughts are difficult to read for me right now. It's clear that he wants me. He's thinking about what my cock looks like. How I would feel in his hand, in his mouth, and finally inside his tight, untouched ass.

I've seen thoughts like this in his head before; usually when he's with another man. That's why he always closes his eyes when they pleasure him. It's always me that he's thinking of.

"You're going to die," I state, letting my fingers move over the sleeve of his shirt. It's dangerous to touch him again, way too risky, but I can't manage to stop myself. Soon, he'll be gone forever. I can barely endure the thought.

"Yes," he says. "I'm going to die. It's just a question of time from this moment on. My life is in God's hand and he has no reason to be gracious to me."

"He does." I croak, my aching thirst suddenly much worse. I try to focus on his breathing instead of his heartbeat. His breathing is less tempting.

"You don't know what I am. What I'm doing."

"I know exactly who you are," I tell him, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt until it rolls up. The moment my fingers touch against his naked skin for the very first time, I know I'm lost.

Carlisle's skin is so warm. The fine hair on his arm tickles my fingertips as I stroke over it again and again.

"Why are your eyes red?"

"Just some infection; it looks worse than it is."

"Hmm, and why are your hands so cold?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"Are you sick? Some kind of disturbed blood flow perhaps?"

I shake my head and grant him another smile while my thumb circles over his pulse. This is torture, but it's beyond celestial.

"Yes," I say. "There is some problem with my blood circulation. Does it bother you that I'm so cold to the touch?"

His mind tells me no. Carlisle begins to instantly think of several different ways to treat my condition. He cares about me. It's so wonderful.

"I've been watching you," I admit, while I try to decide whether I can risk lowering my lips against his wrist to kiss him there.

"For how long?" he asks, trying to remember the first time he has seen me in his room. He can't remember it. It is hard for him to concentrate while I caress his arm. I draw lines over the blue veins at its inside. I circle my little finger over his elbow, and finally down to his palm. I love his hands. They're strong, with perfectly shaped fingers that would feel so amazing wrapped around my length.

"Edward, how long?"

"A while."

"Did you see me with Michael as well?"

I nod and sigh deeply. "He doesn't matter. I know you don't love him. You didn't love any of them."

"Love," the word sounds sad when he says it. "Is there even love out there? I used to believe there was, but now I'm not so sure anymore."

My chest tightens. I've waited too long. He's been lonely and I haven't done anything to change that. Sitting at his bedside while he's sleeping doesn't change anything. And now, my mate is dying. I've wasted all this time luring over him like he's some precious breakable toy.

"You've never touched me before," he comments.

I have trouble staying still when he raises his hand to my face and gently cups my jaw between his fingers.

"How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Eighteen," he mouths. "Still so young, aren't you?"

He coughs again and quickly covers his mouth with his hand. My chin feels warm where he just touched me seconds ago. It's so wonderful, almost like being alive again. I want more of this.

I rub Carlisle's back and ask him if he'd like to have a glass of water. He nods his head, wiping his mouth again. How far along is his disease? How much more time do I have with him?

When I return from the kitchen, he's moved to the bed again. Maybe I should let him sleep now. He's exhausted.

"Drink," I tell him. "Small sips,"

"You'd make a good doctor."

"I don't think so. I'm not that well at handling blood," I confess, with a bashful look on my face.

"You get used to it. I sure have."

For a moment, his lower lip curls up to the hint of a smile. It's stunning.

I hold my breath and close my eyes. Then I lean forward and press my lips on his. I need to kiss him, even if it's just one time.

His reaction is not what I expected. Carlisle fists his hands into my hair and pulls on it, trying to bring me closer. I can feel his lips parting, and mimic the movement with mine. The second his hot tongue glides inside my mouth, it's my undoing. I'm so hard. My dick is throbbing. I know he can feel me against his thigh.

Finally, I pull back. He gasps for air, and I watch fascinated how his Adam's apple pulses in his throat when he swallows.

In his head, I see myself underneath him, pinned to the mattress while his mouth glides down my chest.

In a flash, I grab his wrists and spin us around. His weight feels wonderful on top of me. His mind is trying to grasp what happened, but he's too aroused, way too agitated to think rationally.

"Touch me," I whisper, guiding his hands to the buttons of my shirt. He fumbles them open, taking his time to caress every small piece of skin he's exposing. I love the touch of his long fingers on my cold flesh.

My beautiful boy, he thinks, as he eventually pushes my shirt down my shoulders and nudges a wet kiss on my sternum. His tongue swipes over the thin patch of coppery hair before he moves his head a bit further to the right. I moan as he flickers the tip of his tongue over my nipple. Lust overflows my senses. Why did I deny myself such pleasures with my mate for such a long time?

Carlisle's dick is rubbing against mine. It's only the thin material of our pants that is separating them from each other. How amazing would it feel to have his hot shaft skin-on-skin to mine?

I undo his fly and free his cock, letting it snap free from his pants. He grunts, while a droplet of sizzling liquid trickles against my stomach.

My fingers wraps around the tip, squeezing it as carefully as I'm capable of. I rub the slick wetness all around the head and enjoy how Carlisle twitches in my hand.

Let me feel you too, he thinks, and drops his left hand to my waist. It is difficult for him to support himself with just one arm. I help him by wiggling my hips up to make it easier to push down my trousers.

Oh yes, this is better, so much better. Carlisle's fist closes over the base of my dick, giving it a gentle squeeze. My eyes roll back in my head. Venom pours in my mouth, and I know that my eyes must have turned black like night now.

"Harder," I command. "I need more."

My gorgeous mate whimpers and begins rubbing my cock for all he's worth, while I milk his with my lean fingers as carefully as I'm able to.

Fuck, he hisses in his head, I'm not going to last much longer. I let go of his dick and caress his handsome face instead. I kiss his lips, and my tongue glides over the sharp edges of my teeth before I deepen the kiss and explore the moistness of his mouth. I want my cock in here so badly.

For a moment, I think that Carlisle's able to read my thoughts just like I'm reading his. He pictures my length between his lips, sucking hard on me while I thrust roughly into his mouth.

Yes, this is what I need now.

"Suck me," I moan, stroking tenderly over his blond curls. "I want your mouth on me."

I shift back on the bed, leaning against the frame, while Carlisle slowly––way too slowly––lowers his mouth to my cock.

The first hesitant lick over the head sparks fire within me. I stroke over his hair as he takes me into his mouth, inch by inch. When I reach the back of his throat, he coughs and pulls back.

"Again," I whisper. "I know you can do this."

His eyes stay on mine. I can sense how he tries to figure out how the color of my iris seems so different now. Always analyzing; my mate is such a curious human.

"Suck me. All of me."

He takes a few deep breaths. Then he rolls his tongue over the slit at the top of my head and licks down to my base. I hiss some profanities as his lips pull on the skin that covers my balls.

"You're doing amazing," I praise. "Keep going, love."

I feel my insides tighten and know I'm close. I don't want this to be over, though. It's a miracle that he's still alive. I've managed not to kill my mate in my frenzy of desire. Pride sweeps over me.

He takes me back into his mouth and begins the torturous game of bobbing his head back and forth all over again. This time, he manages it to keep his gag reflex under control. His thoughts show me how difficult it is for him to focus on breathing only through his nose.

I want him to stop, yet I want him to continue at the same time. He wants me to come in his mouth. His thoughts are circling about how my seed is going to taste like. With a thrust that is most likely a bit too hard for his human body, I release into his waiting mouth in several spurts.

Coming in Carlisle's mouth is nothing like coming over my own hands. It's nothing like the few encounters I had with an older boy from school while I was still human. Fire sparks through me. I moan his name and whimper as he finally pulls back, licking my entire length clean.

I watch how he rubs his jaw for a moment. Crap, did I hurt him?

"I dreamed about doing this for a long time," he whispers in a raspy voice.

"I know," I tell him, enjoying how he rests his forehead against my shoulder to rest for a moment. "I've been thinking about you, too."

He coughs a few times. I rub his back until his breathing returns to normal.

"You shouldn't be so close to me. It's dangerous. I don't want you to get infected."

I doubt that tuberculosis is going to have any kind of effect on a vampire, but the fact that he cares so much about me…it fills me with joy.

"I'm not afraid," I assure him. "Don't worry, love."

My fingers glide down to his now semi-hard dick. I stroke him for a while, massaging his thick length while my other hand plays with his balls. The tip of my forefinger moves a bit lower and he shudders.

"Turn around on your stomach," I tell him, swallowing back a mouthful of venom. I cup the pale flesh of his backside in both of my hands and massage his muscular ass. Carlisle's skin breaks out into gooseflesh. I blow cold breathe over the crack before I part him carefully.

He trembles when I start moving my tongue around the tight rosette, looping closer to the hole with each flicker. I let a gracious amount of my venom pour down on it before I press the tip of one finger against the muscle ring. It glides inside, and Carlisle's lust takes over the control of his thoughts. He wants this; my fingers inside his ass, stretching him, preparing him for my pleasure, our pleasure.

I lick a second finger, making it nice and wet before I add it to the first one. Christ, he's so tight here. Slowly, I start thrusting my finger in and out. The muscles relax and I glide in deeper, touching my fingertips against some spongy spot inside of him.

His hips jerk with the beginning spasms of his release. Not yet. I want my cock to be buried balls deep inside his ass when he climaxes.

"I want to take you," I breathe into his ear. "But you need to relax more. Your tight hole will feel so good all around me. You want it, too. Don't you?"

"Yes," he whimpers. "Please, Edward." Fill me, he adds in his head.

I scissor my fingers inside him and let some more venom drizzle down his stretched hole. My cock is already hard again; hard and ready to claim his body. I can't wait any longer. I need to be in him right now.

He weeps as I pull my fingers out of him. I stroke his back and grab him around his narrow hips with one hand. I spit into the palm of the other one and prepare my dick for the next step.

The moment I push inside him our fate is sealed. I try to be gentle, but it's difficult when his hot muscles are squeezing me so deliciously.

"More," he grunts. "Don't hold back. I need you."

Again and again I rock my hips forward, thrusting into him faster and faster. I can hear something cracking and pray it's not his spine. Carlisle moans. It's a moan of lust, not of pain. My mate is perfect for me. I love him. I love him with every cell of my body.

I reach down to grab his cock, feeling it swell even more in my hand. He explodes just a heartbeat later. He screams. His body quivers and I smear his hot release all over his stomach while I don't stop pumping hard into him. It's overwhelming. The heat envelopes me, his inner muscles massage my dick as he rides out the spasms of his climax. The sound of his blood rushing through his veins is too much for me now. I sink my teeth into his neck and suck. Mine, I think as I taste the first drop of his delicious blood. You're mine.

My hips jerk up a last time as I come harder than ever before. Coming in his body while his blood pours down my throat is better than anything I've ever experienced before.

His thoughts turn silent. Why are they silent? I manage to lift my mouth from his jugular. The pain in my throat is unbearable. I know I need to stop, though. I pull out and turn his lifeless body over. The heartbeat is weak but I can still hear it.

"Carlisle?"

"Burns," he croaks. "It burns so much. What is this? Arrg! Oh, God in Heaven, help me!"

With that, his head falls down to the side. I can smell a slight difference in the way his blood smells now.

"It's going to stop," I tell him, wiping a sweat covered curl out of his forehead. "I promise it will be over soon."

I stand up from the bed and close the window. I need to move him away from here. Somewhere a bit further away from humans until he's able to control his thirst. It will be safer.

My eyes look down upon his shaking body, that doesn't know yet that it has no chance to win the fight against the venom inside its veins.

Carlisle is going to be like me when he wakes up again. My selfishness has irrevocably destroyed his soul. I've damned him to eternal purgatory.

I feel guilty and yet, a divine, unearthly happiness is flowing through me. Carlisle will survive death. Nothing will manage to keep us apart now.

Forever and ever he'll be with me…